


Lights and Shadows

by arpita



Category: Bollywood RPF, Cocktail (2012)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28527063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpita/pseuds/arpita
Summary: The story begins after the movie ends, where Gautam and Meera get married into their quintessential 'happily ever after'. Veronica decides to move out of her apartment, and start a life of her own as a fashion photographer with British Vogue. It is in her new journey, that she comes across Tara, her new flatmate and co-worker, in a smaller, less expensive flat. Both the women have their past behind them, which they would give anything to forget, but as is the nature with the past, it keeps looming up, every now and then.Though Veronica has apparently been gracious in her acceptance of Gautam and Meera's alliance, within her, lies a turbulence that seldom lets itself out. Something that Tara bears witness to while fighting a few of her own demons.
Relationships: Gautam Kapoor/Meera Sahni, Gautam Kapoor/Veronica Malaney, Other Original Characters shipped within themselves, Veronica Malaney and Original Female Characters
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The movie 'Cocktail' belongs entirely to its makers. The scribbler here owns no part of it. It was just the ending that she found too convenient, and hence the long, angsty, treatment, wherein somethings are addressed, while exercising an extremely rusty writing muscle
> 
> 2\. (Even though no one shall read this :P) Comments, criticism, and inputs are welcome with wide open arms and glitter! :)
> 
> 3\. The Cast:
> 
> i. The Original Cast of the Movie, as they are.  
> ii. Ronit Roy as Rishabh Malaney (Veronica's father)  
> iii. Tripti Dimri as Tara Bhattacharya (Veronica's roommate)  
> iv. Saswata Chatterjee and Simone Singh as Tara's parents  
> v. Nishant Dahiya as Raghav Agarwal (Tara's ex-boyfriend)
> 
> Others to be added as they go. (I'm a horrible pantser :( )

_ "It is okay, Ver," she heard someone say. _

_ She tried to assemble her senses. Stubborn as they were, they  _ **_just_ ** _ refused to organise themselves from the miasmic haze induced by the relentless drinking games. _

_ The owner of that voice was heaving her numbed body away from that din seemed to struggle with her nearly six-foot frame.  _

_ That voice seemed concerned. _

_ The concern was familiar.  _

_ Familiar, and uncomfortable. _

_ "Taxi!", it squeaked.  _

_ She heard a feeble screech of the wheels.  _

_ "That's it, that's it," that voice said, trying to settle her in the seat. Another pair of arms aided her. _

_ A faint sigh wandered in her ears.  _

_ Was it relief?, she seemed to wonder in that haze. _

_ Something seemed to ferry her across to somewhere she knew. It was safe, warm, and cosy, like she wanted, like she needed.  _

_ The noxious cloud faded into the squish of cotton. Warmth engulfed the flares, and everything seemed to dissipate into a much-needed slumber of peaceful silence. _

_ The inebriation had its uses, after all. _


	2. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica's father pays her a visit after she returns from a particularly wild night. His visit goes as expected, ruining a rare weekend for the girls.

“Yes?” Tara eyed the elderly stranger at the door, feeling amply conscious of herself in the morning lassitude.

“Miss Bhattacharya, right?” he asked, courteously.

“I’m Veronica’s father, Rishabh Malaney,” he extended a hand.

“Oh! Okay! S-sorry!” Tara hesitantly stammered.

“Please come in,” she continued, trying to be as normal as she could.

It  _ was _ , in fact, awkward. Having her flatmate’s elusive father, pay her a visit in their humble dwelling in Tooring was as anomalous as his stark, sharp sartorial sense in their temporarily unorganised flat. It was six o’clock in the morning, which might have been regular for them as well, had it been a weekday. After all, it was a basic requirement at their common workplace to be ready for whatever was thrown at them. 

Sadly, unannounced parental visits didn’t form a part of their professional criteria.

“Veronica isn’t awake yet,” Tara told him, gradually acclimatising herself to his presence.

She doubted if Mr. Malaney’s parental concern for his wild child of a daughter would be reciprocated in the manner he was expecting.

\---

_ He should have been used to indifference _ , Tara wondered, as that murky cloud of silence hung over them.

Veronica was still in bed wrapped in the blankets she had put over her last night, in dire need of coffee.

"I should get some coffee for us," Tara made an attempt to make her exit from that atmosphere of familial discord and discomfort.

"Trying to escape, are you?" Veronica profanely cut in, her voice cracking through like a bolt of lightning through a turbulent sky.

Tara bit her lip. Mr. Malaney took a deep breath. One knew better than to speak, another didn't.

"I’m just worr-"

-"Take your concern and shove it." another crack of lightning shot through, as perilous as the last.

_ That's just "get out" worded in tougher terms, and "fuck off" put mildly,  _ Tara wondered.

Veronica's gaze met hers. 

It wasn't as if their implied conversation had missed her father's scrutiny. The entire city knew him too well. Building a million dollar empire like that, must have taken years of diplomacy and scrutiny. 

Sadly, his eyes had weakened when it came to his daughter. His endless wealth had never kept Veronica materially deprived, for sure. 

The abundance of privilege had tired her to the point of saturation. All those years as a rich socialite, never really got her the contentment that she craved for.

Till-

- _ It was forbidden to recount the past year-  _

"Look Veronica,"- Mr. Malaney raised a stern, silencing finger, before his daughter could mouth another response,-

-"I'm glad you're doing things on your own,"- his tone softened. The father replaced the businessman. 

-"I'm proud of you, Baby," he said, meaning it. Veronica rolled her eyes. 

-"I'm glad you started with what you've always been good at, in fact,"- he took another long, contemplative breath, - "I should've encouraged you,-

_ Fuck,  _ Tara raised her eyes, barely restraining the unintended expletive.

She wished Mr. Malaney would read her cautionary gaze. 

"I'm just…" he trailed off, removing his spectacles. Veronica's lips were a thin, hard line.

"The price was too heavy," he sighed, hammering the nail deep into the coffin.

\---

  
  
  


"He is your dad, after all." Tara told her.

Veronica impassively sipped her coffee. 

Tara didn’t say anything further either. 

_ So much for a quiet Saturday _ , she thought morosely. In all honesty, both of them had been looking forward to a ‘Quiet Saturday’ for a long time now. It had been quite a ride for them at work for the past few months. Their pay wasn’t exactly the best in the city. It did keep them afloat, of course, and it had allowed them the luxury of a Friday night in a so-called ‘happening’ club-

- _ Which had led to Mr. Malaney’s visit going awry today. _ -

Moderation wasn’t really a virtue with either of them. Both Tara and Veronica favoured excesses in some form or the other. Excessive work, excessive partying, -when fortunes, paltry, or otherwise- allowed, excessive love-

_ Excessive disappointments, hatred, consideration… _

For now, Tara was the one doing the excessive thinking. Veronica wasn’t really one to labour on that front. She had done that once, by showing a lot of superhuman consideration and restraint. 

That was the kind of excessism that had come to bite her back in the ass once the high had waned. There was no other excess that could do away with the emptiness that it had left in consequence. No matter how much Meera and Gautam had cajoled her to move in with them in Hillingdon, in their new marital residence, she had refused, in an excessively polite manner.

“He was trying to lick his wounded ego,” Veronica quietly said, after what seemed like a very long time. 

Tara lowered her eyes. Now wasn’t really a good time.

“You’re being diplomatically silent, T,” Tara heard while she took a sip of her coffee.

She would have said something. But then, it would lead to them discussing their taboos.

_ Personal taboos. _

“Relax, love,” Veronica sardonically said further, “You and I have been to enough pity parties to not pile one of them on each other.”

It was Tara’s turn to let out yet another sober sigh.

  
  


“Sahil called,” she mouthed suddenly, as if she had found the distraction she had been searching for.

“Great!” Veronica smiled. 

“He’ll probably join us next week,” Tara said.

“Music video shoot?” Veronica questioned.

“Yeah, what else?” the other girl answered.

“Busy guy!” 

Both of them laughed. 

“I’m glad things are working out for him,” Veronica said, “After all it is difficult for an independent artist.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tara smiled back. 

“Anyway,” Veronica put her coffee cup on the table beside her bed, where they had been seated for so long, “we need to get our asses off this bed, and do some real work on this “Quiet Saturday.””

Both of them wished “Quiet Saturday” to exorcise their demons, however temporarily.

\---

  
  
  


“I dread Mondays, y’know?” Veronica said later that night, devouring away whatever was left of their remaining bottle of rum. 

“Fuck Mondays!” Tara groggily added. She literally had enough of the alcohol to let her flatmate enjoy the rest. And Veronica could drink like a fish. 

“How did my daddy dearest come here, Darling?” Veronica asked her, tone rife with mockery.

“He’d called,” Tara sighed, still amply sober, “Thrice when we were in the taxi, twice after we returned.”

“Hah!” the taller girl let out a snort, “Pity party number 552!”

This was getting worse. Tara always had to keep herself in her senses once they were in close proximity to alcohol. She had kept Veronica close last night, after she had found herself unsuccessful in keeping her away from the dreaded substance which led her to revisit the times when she had been wronged. In addition to that, she also tended to bring up Tara’s past as well.

“Good,” Tara said, putting her thoughts into action, “Let’s go to bed.”

“Naah, sweetheart!” Veronica took another slurp out of the bottle, “I ain’t going nowhere!”

She followed it with a cackling laugh.

“Tell me, Tara,” she smouldered, “Why did you refuse your asshole?”

“Ver please!” Tara pleaded, “I’m very sleepy,” 

“And I have that brief to work on,”-

\- “Fuck your brief!,” Veronica snapped.

“Answer me!”

Tara sat down like an obedient child.

“Y’know T,” she pulled herself closer to her, still uncaring of the tears welling up in her flatmate’s eyes, “My father’s ego was hurt after I refused his fat cheque,”

She had probably forgotten her question about Raghav.

“I have to work on that brief tomorrow,” Tara wiped her tears.

“Oh! Darling,” Veronica’s face bobbed closer to hers.

“You cry too,” she cooed to her, making that sad face that would definitely have made Meera and Gautam go on that much-needed guilt trip. 

She raised a finger to collect a tear rolling down Tara’s eyes.

“Raghav Agarwal!” she cocked her head, staring at the raised finger, “Is that you?”

Uncaring of Veronica’s head on her shoulder, Tara looked away from her. 

_ Why does she have to do this? _ , she wondered.

Veronica lacked control, although she swore by her indifference. But then, that was just a facade. Throughout the week, their endless photography sessions, and brainstorming over next issues at Vogue! left them with no time to ponder over anything apart from just sneaking in a few hours of dreamless sleep. 

That was it, eighty-hour weeks, working weekends, exhausted nights, and bleary-eyed mornings were their therapy. That made them forget everything while they launched themselves headfirst into something that drained them of their negatives. Only this week, when they finally got a bit of respite after that gigantic Paris Fashion Show, did they get some space to let in for themselves. And that’s where the demons caught up, after having shadowed them for months.

Those demons were why Veronica Malaney was babbling away and Tara Bhattacharya had tears in her eyes.

“Hate me all you want, T”- she said with an equally teary smile, drilling her gaze further into Tara, “I still miss them, and you still miss him,”

“I’m leaving,” Tara shrugged herself away, putting Veronica’s head on the sofa they were sitting on. 

“That room won’t hide you, Darling,” she laughed at the protest. 

Somewhere or the other, their hearts twinged. Both of them had tried to cement their cracks, and had failed miserably. Those spirits loomed their ugly heads time, and again. 

If only they could find some manual way of having them deleted from their past, maybe by having their memories modified, they could probably find some semblance of peace. Of course, peace did come to them, in the form of very small successes at work, and little fleeting moments they attempted to smuggle during the recesses they would manage at times. 

While Veronica flailed away on the sofa, snuggling into the stray blanket Tara had left there, the latter pushed herself on the bed. 

She hoped she had been drunk enough to not let Raghav anywhere around in her slumber. It would be easier if there were no dreams at all.

\---


	3. Brief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after Veronica has one of her many breakdowns/outbreaks. Tara decides to give her the silent/cold shoulder treatment till she finds an outlet for her own shimmering frustration towards Raghav. Work here, decides to act as the much-needed calming agent for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The workings of the fashion industry here are imaginary. Please feel free to correct me here (in case anyone happens to read this :P)

When Veronica woke up the next day, she found her roommate shuffling away in the kitchen, probably preparing some of their staple morning brew and breakfast. She didn’t miss the unusual lack of warmth in the girl facing her though. 

“Have you already started working on that bloody brief?!” she managed to ask with a smile on her face. 

“Hameer left a message,” Tara said, impassively. 

_ Not the answer to my question _ , Veronica soliloquised.

The reason for Tara being taciturn was evident. She hadn’t taken her drunken introspection-cum-impulsive behaviour very well. After all, Raghav was as much of a taboo as Meera and Gautam were, if not more.

“How is that brief coming along?” she asked, yet again.

“It has to come along well,” Tara answered coldly, “After all, a well-written brief would ensure that Hameer Siddique gets his rent on time, wouldn’t it?”-

The castigation was sharp, and expected. 

-“Anyway, I’ll pay him up today,” she went on, “We are a day behind schedule.”-

\- “I’m sorry, T,”- Veronica walked up to her, genuinely apologetic.

“Take your apology and shove it.” Tara wasn’t mincing her words.

Veronica bit her lip on having tasted her own medicine. But then, Tara wasn’t her dad, or Meera for that matter. Though she initially did think of her current roommate as the splitting image of her former flatmate, with her silence and homeliness, the two women couldn’t be farther away from each other. Meera was the quintessential ‘good girl’ and Tara was just a girl who wouldn’t think twice before calling out bullshit. She was definitely courteous, because of which she had been extremely awkward and quiet in Mr. Malaney’s presence, but her courtesy had its limits.

“What should we do today?” Veronica persisted.

“For starters,”- Tara looked at her, “how about getting rid of your stinking breath?”

“I’ll make the bed.” she replied shortly. 

Tara was still reasonably enraged. All Veronica  _ could  _ do for her part, was to just let her pour it out in her brief, by staying out of her face for the rest of the day. She was sure that once she had poured their coffee, and kept her breakfast on the table, she’d definitely take her own plate to her room, and resume working. 

\---

  
  


“Hey Ver!” Tara peeped in later during the day, visibly composed. 

“Yeah!” Veronica jumped, as if she had been looking for her. 

“Want me to help?” she asked.

“Er- yes,” the evident answer came.

“I think I lost Aaron’s number,” Tara said, “He had the pictures of the show on the 23rd of September.”

“Aaron?” Veronica asked, seemingly surprised, “Which label are you writing on?”

“Givenchy!”, Tara replied, disgruntled, “Can you imagine?”

“Nigel is an asshole,” Veronica laughed. 

“Please don’t-” Tara sat down on the bed.

-“Let’s just say that beggars can’t be choosers.” she continued.

“That is the reason why I’m saddled with Ramona, I guess,” she rolled her tongue, while shuffling in her phone for Aaron’s number.

“There it is,” she told Tara, “Aaron’s number,”

“Thank you,” she said while noting the number down.

“Hey T,” Veronica called her back.

“Yes.” she turned.

“May I help?” Tara heard. Her flatmate did this at times. It was a fat lot of help, she did understand. After all, Veronica had a very good eye for fashion, and her tips made it extremely easy for her to crack a hurdle she might face. Her inputs were informative, and educative. Hence,-

\- “Sure!” she quipped, “Hop in right away!”-

Smiling, the women made their way to Tara’s room. Her lair was a literal mess. Her bed was strewn with notes, amidst which lay a laptop. There were a few photographs taken by Veronica from the event as well. The idea was to compile all the clicks by the photographers and each writer was given one label to cover. 

“I have noted a few points,” Tara said, handing Veronica a very small notebook, on which she had scribbled some lines. 

“Hmm…” Veronica said, “I note the emphasis on denim.”

“Yeah,” the reply came in, “Isn’t that the most evident thing” There’s denim everywhere.”

“That’s the only point I’ve got some material on, inclusive of the observations in Clare’s interview.” she continued.

“You’re making the same mistake, T,” Veronica shrugged her head, “There’s plenty to write on!”

“I’m including the part on formals as well,” Tara chimed

“What am I missing?!” she asked.

“Accessories!” the answer was evident, “When will you ever note the accessories?!”

“Ugh! Ver!” the other girl slumped back on the pillows.

“They complete the look,”- Veronica added, pointing at the clutch held by one of the models in a photograph she had taken. 

\- “Moreover,” she went on, “you could go on to write a little about the colours they might be available in, like this one here,”- she picked up another photograph,- “is mimosa yellow, another might be available in pillarbox red or some sort of monochrome.”-

\- “Gotcha!” a few more points were scribbled as the laptop stared on. 

“I’ll just add these,”- she murmured, tapping on her laptop, “and something on necklines,”-

\- “You know what?,” Veronica leaned on her.

\- “Yeah, what?” Tara answered in the same vein. 

“We’ll make a pretty good team.” she said.

\---


	4. The Grind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a particularly hectic day at work -interspersed with calls from a dreaded caller- Veronica has yet another breakdown. Tara finally decides to humanise themselves, for a bit, and reach out for assistance.

“Compilations don’t really comprise an entire issue!” Aaron was whimpering, mid-Monday. 

Tara huffed, exasperated. More allocations had come in. The weekend that had gone by, was perhaps the only one they were allowed any luxury, at all. 

“How will the entire issue be pieced together by the 10th?” she said, as calmly as she could. “I’d written a few while we were on the run in Paris!” 

“This issue will be a madhouse,” another one of their colleagues said, “As it goes, The Boss isn’t very impressed with the lineup, right now. If anything, only Malaney’s photographs have made her shut up. I remember her cribbing about how crowded Calvin Klein’s collection was with casuals.”

“Hold your horses,” Veronica caught up with them, “We have to be in Vogue with Vogue!, right?” 

“Fuck you!” Tara quietly whispered so that only Veronica could hear.

A knowing glance passed between the two of them. Only to be interrupted by the vibrations of the latter’s phone.

_ Gautam Kapoor _ , the name flashed for Veronica to see, and Tara to pretend to ignore. Thankfully, they had enough on their plate to ignore him. 

\---

“Your phone has been exploding all day long!” Tara said as her flatmate’s phone screen blared with Gautam’s name, for the fifth time in a row, on their way home. 

Veronica quietly unlocked the latch while entering as Gautam’s call went unanswered. 

“Answer him or switch that damned phone off.” Tara just made a statement for Veronica to hear. 

Neither of them knew why Gautam or Meera still called Veronica. Tara sometimes heard Meera voicing her concerns for her friend-in-need. What she never really heard was Veronica being tough on them. For all her indifference, she kept out of their way, owing to the weakness she still had for Gautam. 

Her screen blared again. Tara rolled her eyes. But, it was an unknown number this time.

Veronica took the call, probably thinking it was someone from work.

\---

They dined in silence. Gautam’s multiple calls had quietened them, and Tara didn’t bother asking about the call that had followed immediately. Veronica would tell her eventually. Her loose mouth was really trustworthy in that manner.

“I’ll do the dishes,” she said, getting up.

“It was Gautam’s mother,” Veronica said finally.

_ There you go _ , Tara mused.

“Meera is expecting,” she said shortly.

The sadness in her voice was as thick and tangible as the dishes being washed. A few days ago, she was scrolling through Meera’s Instagram page poring over her photographs with Gautam.

Tara looked up. 

_ Why exactly aren't these people letting her off the leash? _ , she wondered.

The answer wasn’t really difficult. Veronica had never let them know what she’d felt during Gautam’s wedding. She had valiantly put up that luminous smile, and had attended their wedding with complete grace, bestowing her blessings on the couple that was meant to be. It was only three months after they had moved in while working together, that Tara had come to know of these people. 

Tara didn’t like Gautam or Meera, for that matter. Her reason for disliking Gautam tied back to her own experience after Raghav. As far as Meera was concerned, she just didn’t like her for reasons unknown. If ever Veronica asked her, she would plainly say that fickle flirts like Gautam didn’t deserve any woman. He had taken Veronica for granted, he had probably taken Meera for granted as well. Only, Meera was far more submissive than Veronica could ever be. Furthermore, what had he known about the emotional quagmire Veronica was in? 

“Look, Ver,” she began, “You don’t owe them anything,” 

Veronica’s eyes were brimming with tears. It was in these instances that Tara didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t throw any sharp-tongued insults at her for being weak, because she was weak herself. It was high time both of them exorcised their demons. 

“I should be happy for them, T,” Veronica’s voice broke as she clung to her.

“It is fine, Ver,” Tara said, “You don’t have to be.”

She knew Veronica took it entirely on her conscience to be happy for them. It was this burden of not being the bitch, of battling her vices. And by being the Goddess, she was denying herself of the basic necessity of being human.

“She is making a family of her own,” she heard Veronica sniffle on her t-shirt.

“She made that apartment a home,” the sobbing continued. 

_ Tara took a deep breath. It was the same rabbit hole she had been to when she’d seen the photographs of Raghav’s big fat Indian Wedding in Hampshire on her Instagram feed. She had newly moved into this apartment they were staying in, back then. In her mightily unsuccessful attempt at feigning indifference to Raghav’s syrupy spouse, she had actually broken down uncontrollably in Veronica’s arms.  _

_ “Fuck him!” Veronica had strongly said, “You’re your own woman! And you’ll make your own fortune! Nothing you do has any connection to him!”  _

_ Why wasn’t she being strong for herself? _ , Tara thought as she tightened her grip around her sobbing flatmate. 

“Let them make their home,” Tara voiced her thoughts, “You’re making your own future as well!”

“Tell me, T,” Veronica pulled Tara to sit down in front of her, “I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No! Ver! Please!” Tara hugged her back, “You deserve the world for all I know!” 

“Please don’t do this to yourself!” she pleaded, “Gautam is your past, the fact that he is Meera’s husband is something that you did well to not prevent. You’ve done so well for yourself!”

“Do you still love Raghav?” the question hit her right in her blood, with Veronica’s streaming eyes boring holes into her.

“I’m battling his love within me,”- she couldn’t lie to Veronica, having been rendered powerless in front of those eyes. 

\- “only because I cannot continue loving him. It is unfair to me, and toxic for my mental health.” she said, as stoically as she could, while Veronica clung harder to her.

“What can I do, T?” she cried.

“Please save me!” she kept pleading, and Tara just could not understand why she was begging to be saved. It was only sometime ago that Veronica had told her about Meera deciding to quit her job for the family. And here she was, literally kicking ass as she made her way in British Vogue, after having turned her rich dad’s patronage down. Their seniors loved her work, and she was doing very well, in a relatively short time. Looking back at Meera would only mean adding salt to her own wounds, while undermining her achievements. Meera had chosen what she deemed best for herself. 

But then, these were thoughts that would come to a rational mind. The weeping, pleading Veronica Malaney was anything but rational, at this given point in time. She was hurt, and bleeding profusely in her heart, and there was no inebriation that could dull the pain, right now. One couldn’t always seek the solace of alcohol to neutralise such agony. The news of Meera’s pregnancy had hit her inexplicably hard, given her own yearning for a fully functional family, considering she now had what Veronica wanted.

_ A family to love, care and live for. A family to return to after having broken her own back at work. _

_ Family _ .

_ Fuck!, _ Tara thought to herself. 

“Listen, Ver!” she cupped Veronica’s face in her palms, “Let’s get some rest tonight, alright?” 

They really had had enough for the day, with it rounding up with this piece of news. It was time to make amends to their own selves. Everything would suffer if these disastrous recesses repeated themselves with such frequency. Neither of them were superhuman, and hence repairing their own damages would require collective effort. 

After Veronica went to bed, Tara decided to act on the epiphany of the realisation she’d had a while ago.

“Hey Ma,” she said over the phone, later, as she settled in her own room, much to the relief of her mother.

“Yes, Darling,” the elderly lady answered.

“Weren’t you dying to move in with us here?” Tara asked. 

“Are you serious, Ru?” her mother happily asked her. After all, when Tara had proposed that she would move out of their secure cocoon in the East End of the city to her college hostel, her mother had only reluctantly relented. She had not allowed herself back to her parents even when she had hit rock bottom last year, after her breakup with Raghav, someone they had detested, and warned her against. 

She had eventually decided to give in, as she witnessed Veronica’s condition. They needed help. She was done with her act of stoic strength. They needed their presence, their occasional visits were just momentary bits of relief. 

_ They needed a family. _

“Please Ma,” Tara confirmed, “We need you and Baba,”

“I can’t do it on my own,” she sighed, “We cannot do it on our own,” 

“You can, Baby!” her mother said, “you’ve done so well, so far”, she beamed.

“We’ll come there tomorrow, if Veronica doesn’t mind.” she continued.

“Come away, Ma,” Tara said.

“And please,” she added, “Let’s all give Veronica a surprise.”

\----


End file.
